Life was never meant to be a race. There is no prize for being the first to get somewhere, for being the most popular, the most liked, and so on. The Sun never rewarded any flower for blooming first. Nor did the Earth announce prizes for the birds who flew the fastest. The vast universe has place for everyone, allowing each to reach his prime in his own time. Yet, in his race to be the best, the fastest, the most liked, the richest and so on, man forfeits the time he has on the planet to chase glories that last a few likes or a few shares. So, stop, hold yourself, take a deep breath and appreciate yourself. Your time is good time. Your journey at a slower pace is good, the different path you chose is amazing and your milestones are waiting…
Coz, at any given time, you are the best that you could have been!!!
-Said the Universe
Category: Prose
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I was looking for a tenant for my flat. I was approached by a scamster. Luckily though even before talking to him, just by looking at his whatsapp messages, I got a hunch that this is a scandal.
And so it was, when I checked his aadhar card with the help of a friend, I realize that the gut feeling was just right.
Many times it has happened to me that I would decide to talk to someone or not talk to someone, go to an event or not go to an event all based on my gut feeling and it has almost always turned just right.
Years ago, when I was informed of a family decision with respect to my marriage, I had a strange feeling of being claustrophobic and tried to convince my parents about my fears but was simply shooed aside.
Now as I enjoy being alone, I do think of how life could have been if I had the courage to stand by my gut feeling in the beginning.
But, I would not blame myself or anyone else because in all those years, it never occurred to me that anything could be different. I realized the right to way away from hurt and humiliation a little late, but it was a good realization that shaped my life into a happy, sweet space soon after.
Music played and dance followed and me and my daughter sort of prospered in the aura of positivity that we enveloped ourselves in. My parents having overcome their fear and insecurity decided to standby and cheer and though we faced humungous difficulties, the universe always guided me through with ease.
Energy balls as we are, it would do us good to know or choose whom to interact with, open up to, hold a hand or allow to be held, lend a hand or accept a help and it is not difficult if you are mindful in the moment.
The result is amazing. If your space is clean and pulsating with positivity, and if you are focused on the possibilities rather than challenges, life is truly amazing!!!
Trust your instinct then and move out of spaces that are negative or oppressing, embrace your child-likeness, indulge in little joys of being human, alive in this moment, this day, this time in life and hand over the control of your life to the universe who is constantly working to get you fulfill your true purpose.
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Of intellectual racism!!!!
Dear IITS and IIMS
It’s time for some introspection. Every gully nook and corner has tuition centers with teachers from IITS and IIMs only, caste/religion/color/ age/ gender/ no bar….. so do the institutions of higher education across the country!!!
Yes, all of them, well!!! almost!!!
Institutions in the country are all founded only by IITians and IIMians, but so are tea stalls and Ed tech ventures, schools thrive only because an IITian or an IIMian once entered its hallowed portals and did what?!!!! God knows!!!
In the marriage market, the IITians and IIMians, the so-called intellectuals or the think tanks of this ‘forever developing country’ rake in most of the moolah in the name of the ‘god sanctioned’, law-forbidden ritual of the most importance called ‘the dan daan’ aka dowry!
So, the IITians and the IIMians, poor things, pity them, to protect their intellectual supremacy and the genepool in an era when most girls shy away from the reproduction, come up with the ‘IITIIMshaadi.com where our own Mr. K, the romantic of all Johars,who spawned empires of honey-dripped romantic sagas sells brightest futures with the perfectest partners!!!!
Should we not just bow down and honor him for his kindness???!!!
Perhaps not???
How about starting a http://www.harvardshaadi.com or a http://www.harvardcumoxford.com, pun intended!
Alma matter matters, says who????
Disclaimer: This post is not intended to hurt any sentiments of any IITian or IIMian. Any resemblance to any living or non-living being is simply coincidental.
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To experience a deep, deep connection to the universe, to have a dialogue and to feel that you are heard, understood, was perhaps what her soul needed.
In deep anguish over a supposed promotion, ‘not really’, a change of role, ‘not really’, a feeling of being taken for a ride, ‘may be’ and the multitude of instances perceived or real, that happened to her, and the doubt that assails, ‘did she not fight enough’, ‘did she not have it in her’, ‘what was it really?’ , ‘why’, and so on and so forth.
The shame, the anger and the doubt, that comes with all these, the need to be heard and the same vacuum as ever, threatening to swallow the self, almost two weeks of internal turmoil, where she could not place her finger on her pain, yet, painful it was, and a fatigue that seemed to come with it, sort of numbness that stilled her otherwise, ‘smiling, come what may face,’ then how it all dissipated with a session of self acceptance, of forgiving self, of knowing that she was but an instrument, the life journey has been lived to the best so far and it has to continue so.
Better things are perhaps at the turn, yonder where the horizon hugs the sky , the walk though has to continue, the will has to be strong, if there be friends, they will appear by the side, or disappear if they so choose, in the cosmic design each particle has a role, a mission, a need, so do you, so do you…… so chug it on, chug it on, and smile as you are at it….
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“I am a back bencher. I came forward and sat in your class. I felt connected to you’, said the young man. I looked at him in surprise and staggered a bit as I tried to ingest that powerful statement.
He explained, ‘That is a compliment’. I blurted a quick thank you while still trying to make sense.
A casual acquaintance at a toastmasters club, a deep conversation and exchange of numbers a good, 7 years ago and still connecting with ease without a second meeting in all these years. If that is not connection, I don’t know what it is!
So, you are struggling with data, I could help, comes an offer from a newly made friend. Well, ‘it’s all about connections, you see’, said another sagely.
And I am thinking of these connections that I seem to be making and where they lead me to.
‘Now, I want to tell you a story, when can I come to meet you?’
‘Listen, you should write stuff, you know, let’s discuss that sometime’.
‘Think of the universe, think big, think’, said another almost reinforcing a faith that I was beginning to lose.
‘You know what happened a good 22 years ago…’ so on and so forth, a whirl pool of stories swirl around me, tantalizing, tempting, vying for attention, demanding it even, with alacrity such that I have neither experienced nor felt ever before in my life.
Sometimes the heart reaches out to knock on doors closed and windows shut, eyes turned away and ears that never heard, forgetting the beauty, the absolute thrill of how new connections make new stories and open new possibilities. And how it is so necessary to step out of small mindsets and jump across the fences that seem to wall so much of the world away from being experienced or even understood.
All I want, then, at times, is to put down everything, shut shop all the spread sheets and listen, listen with intent, with interest, wholly totally, completely and hope to reproduce a quarter of the magic, in the animated voices and emotions that are evidenced in them.
Ah! for the love of a good story, and for the dream of being a story teller, sure-footed, the conduit of wandering spirits, the whisperer of souls…..
What binds, what holds
souls in their individual journeys
to take a detour and stop and hold out a hand
and smile together and step out in directions anew
is mysterious and so shall it be…
PS: The word of the week is ‘Connection’, but what connect or disconnect did you experience recently?
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Sometimes when I think of my so called ‘international worries’ of completing my thesis writing, I know for sure that I have come a long way indeed.
From times of worrying about the bills and having sleepless nights of tossing and turning to, this, days of studying and complaining of not finding time to do it well!, what a blessing indeed!
That alone should make me happy, and ensure that the smiles stay and grow.
Do you have any worries, asked a swami long back, when my brother was very sick, I remember smiling and saying ‘none’. He laughed, you are strange, no body comes here without worries, I just looked at him and moved ahead.
When the partner life brought to me, refused to budge, I remember thinking of finding the ‘moolah’ to run the home and doing ‘just’ that. Again even at that time, if someone had asked me, ‘do you have any worries’, I would have said, none.
Coz, of course, it did not occur to me that somebody’s else’s indifference is my problem to correct, especially when you have the blessed task of nurturing a child at your hand! Who would want to waste time!
I didn’t and dived deep into the task at hand and forgot everything else. For years, I defined living on the basis of doing, now when life gives me the freedom to choose what to do, I am lost, unable to make the choices, and wondering of ways to go and easily choose books over anything else! for good or bad!
In the uncertainties of life, all one can do is to keep the smiles and go on, coz, who knows what is next, what really is!
Perhaps we all should just take a leaf from Whitney Houston, and say the greatest love of all, is the ability to accept self and love it as it is. A whole philosophy of living is embodied in the style and rendering and the lyrics of this beautiful song!
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‘Tell me a story, please,’ I pestered any adult around me and sort of button holed the person and forced him or her to share stories. And I was lucky too, coz my father despite his ‘I don’t know anything, I am only 10 std’ stance, is a smart performer with several one-liners and theatrical tricks up his sleeve. Several of my relatives, elders, uncles and aunts had to cough up stories real or imaginary at my persistence or just to get rid of me and they did it with elan, sometimes while grazing the cow, or while out on a walk or just lying down waiting for the sleep to set in.
More than anything that I learnt during my graduation at the famed Govt. Victoria College, Palakkad, what I remember the most is Dr. Vijayan Nair’s elaborate descriptions of his travels in Italy, the gondolas, the piazza and of course the story of how a young impressionable Mary Godwin, eloped with PB Shelley to become Mary Shelley and later, the author of ‘Frankenstein’.
In the classrooms,as a teacher myself, I never lose a chance to tell a story, having learnt a trick or two from the experience of listening to Dakshayani Teacher’s, ‘ Do you know this story? followed by animated narrations from the Mahabharatha or the Ramayana or any other literary text’. That is where, we , the blessed students at LSN Convent, Ottapalam, listened enamoured of how women were supposed to be or how the princes wooed the beauties of yesteryears and travelled to many lands of fantastical imagination.
Those were times when stories seemed to fill my world from books and from the narrations and somehow it seemed that everyone was a ‘walking talking story machine’, if only you sat down to listen to them, giving more food for fantasy to my already ‘very wandering mind.’
Yet, in these days when I struggle to write and batter my brain with the process of ‘phd-iation’, I am regularly asked to set aside time in an authoritative tone, ‘ you better make time for me ok, girl! Once I go back, what will you do!’ followed by a smirk and an eye roll.
And that does it. i forget work and we create the ambience to sit down and watch movies curated by her highness, who is very well versed about movies as she is about restaurants.
Nothing is more swee than this experience of sharing a movie time with my girl, every day, day in and day out And she never tires of showing to those in her circle, the movies of her choice. So we sit down for a good time and time flies, till I fret, ‘I also got to go to work!’.
Somehow I am reminded of my good friend at Victoria, Dhanya Ramachandran who was such a compulsive movie watcher that not a day was spent without watching atleast 2 movies with DVDs lent from the nearby shop.
And yes, my little girl must have watched ‘ Chathikkatha Chandu’ atleast 50 times and it only stopped when the shopkeeper who was well acquainted with her, shrugged rather helplessly, ‘ child, it is out of stock, we don’t have it anymore!’
The love for stories runs deep, I guess, and well, if no one said it before, let me say that ‘ a story a day, keeps the smiles intact and the dreams as well.
So, keep watching movies, reading and telling stories, keep the child alive in you, and your eyes will twinkle no matter what!
Just saying ๐
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เดธเดฎเตเดชเดจเตเดจเดคเดฏเตเดเต เดฆเดพเดฐเดฟเดฆเตเดฐเตเดฏเด เด เดคเต เดเดฐเตเดเตเด เดชเดเตเดเตเดตเตเดเตเดเดพเดจเดฟเดฒเตเดฒ เดเดจเตเดจเดคเดพเดฏเดฟเดฐเดฟเดเตเดเดฃเด
เดธเดจเตเดคเตเดทเดคเตเดคเดฟเดจเตเดฑเตเดฏเตเด เด เดฒเตเดฒเต
เดเดฐเต เดชเดเตเดทเต เดธเตเดจเตเดนเดคเตเดคเดฟเดจเตเดฑเตเดฏเตเดเด เดเดฟ เดชเตเดณเดฟ
เดฐเดฎเตเดถเตป เดเดจเตเดจเต เดเดฑเดเตเดเต เดเดฟเดฐเดฟเดเตเดเต. เดเดตเดฟเดค เดเดจเตเดฑเต เดเตเดตเดพเดคเตเดฎเดพเดตเดพเดฃเต, เดเตเดตเดฟเดคเดตเตเด.
เดเตเดเตเดเดพ, เดเดจเตเดจ เดฐเดฃเตเดเต เดคเตเดเตเดเดฏเตเด เดเตเดเต เดชเตเดณเดฟเดเตเดเต, เดเดตเดฟ เดชเดฟเดจเตเดจเดฟเตฝ เดจเดฟเดจเตเดจเต เดเดเตเด เดตเดเตเดเต.
เดเดนเดพ, เดคเตเดเตเดเดพ, เด เดคเต เดคเดจเตเดจเต.
เดเดเตเดเดฏเดฟเดฒเตเด เดเดเดพเด เดฎเดพเดเตเดเดพ เดเดฑเดฟเดฏเตเด เดตเตเดเตเดเดพเด. เดคเตเดเตเดเดพ เดคเดจเตเดจเต เดจเดฒเตเดฒเดคเต. เดเดฐเต เดฎเตเดคเตเดคเดคเตเดจเตเดจเต เดเดตเดณเตเดเต เดคเดฒเดฏเดฟเตฝ เดตเตเดฃเตเดเตเดเดฟเดฒเต, เดเดฐเต เดเดฒเดเตเดเต เดเดฒเดเตเดเดฎเดพเดฏเดฟเดฐเตเดจเตเดจเต.
เด เดฒเตเดฒ, เดเดดเดฟเดเตเดเดฟเดฒเตเดฒเต
เดฆเดพ, เดตเดฐเตเดจเตเดจเต เดชเตเดฃเตเดฃเต
#Pauperisms of love, life and living
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Yesterday we had visitors at home. My brother’s best friend who has since been adopted as ‘son’ by my mom and dad, when my father gushingly admits, ‘he calls me his achan’, making me smile, visited us with his adorable kids and his beautiful highly educated wife.
As the talks veered into different directions, me and mom nudged the kiddos to sing a song or say something and they did with great elan. We clapped and roared in laughter at their enthusiasm.
As I was in the moment, my mind urged me to capture that moment, while another part asked me to let the event be, let the moment happen as it is, it is not necessary to capture everything and share, in this case with my daughter!
So, I kept wondering at that urge in me to share these days and the use of the gadget to interefere in moments of joy, moments of sheer happiness awe or wonder at something that is not an everyday stuff or just a new perspective at what is indeed an ‘everyday seen in a new light’.
Anyways like everything else clicking pictures of anything and everything is well, another way to communicate, perhaps!
So what you do you think? Do you also reach out to your phone to capture a moment, all too soon, or do let it go by, lost to posterity!
Adhyapika 